But who says that I am not allowed to complain because I live in Tuscany?

I started it last week by complaining that there was no rain and everything was yellow. Well, it still hasn’t rained and the heat is oppressive. It feels that everything is just waiting to catch fire. (Many people suffered and some died in a terrible fire in London last night. Heartbreaking.)

My complaints are as follows: 1. My feet hurt. Yesterday we walked a lot in the scorching sun and you are about to see photo evidence. (Said that, Bestia’s paws hurt too. That Bagnoregio bridge was a beast to beat.) 2. Tomorrow a friend is incoming who gave me a list of Etruscan ruins to visit. Just a glimpse of that list makes my feet hurt even more. Bestia refuses to even look at me. 3. My period thinks that it’s a waterfall and wishes to compete with Italian natural wonders. I’m almost fifty, can we get done with this now please? Said that, noooooo, I don’t wish to turn post-feminine! 😮 But then again… every month it’s worse, as if my body is giving me the final pings and pangs, saying “So are you QUITE sure that you don’t wish to have kids? Serves you right! Bang!” 4. My camera is losing batteries because my battery compartment is broken and I have an elastic in place to keep it together and sometimes it comes off or breaks. I know, duct tape. Always a solution.

And when I came home yesterday and was saying all this and more to amore just as the batteries tumbled to the floor the fourth time that day, he got upset because I had such a tiresome day.

No! My day was great! We met again with my travelling Americans for a much needed girls’ chat. Being surrounded by all-male energy (of two beasts) around the clock can be exhausting. We visited Civita di Bagnoregio which was on my list and a wish of the visitors as well. We got the best parking place just in front of the bridge. We had a nice lunch there and a gelato in the best place in Orvieto. And during the day I passed four police controls and none stopped me because I didn’t exceed the speed limit.

I just reserve my right to complain.

To top it off, one beast made us tiramisu. Hence the T-word in the title. Have a look below. (I know! Half of you have just revoked me the right to complain.)

As for wine, I have a glass of (usually red) wine with my dinner (on weekends also for lunch), but that is still hours away. We shall not go into the size of the glass now.

I think the crucial info is how people behave when they are drunk. Do they unleash inner demons, fears, inadequacies, do they harass, do they whine, do they protest, slam into things, vandalise, steal? Do they wander around on their own, contemplating life? Jump into rivers? Drive? Discriminate – now that they dare? Hit those closest to them? Weep over sports? Hug their mates and cry their hearts out? Want to discuss the most private issues? Want to know about yours? Declare love? Apologise? Throw up and drink some more?

Or simply go to bed?

Can you tell I’ve got lots of observational experience? Not Slovenian for nothing…

Just that I complain on empty stomach too.

To finish the complaints and start the tiramisu show, a real bummer: I must admit that I have acquired too many blogs to follow and cannot keep up with all of you any more. No matter how early I rise, no matter how I don’t do much other than sit in this chair and stare into the screen with too many tabs open and click, no matter how much I WANT to go through all of your blogs and leave my mark because you inspire me and make me feel good and cheer me up, I have been noticing that I leave many blogs be for too long and then frantically catch up with a shower of likes at once. Please don’t hold it against me. If I follow you, I WILL come around and catch up, it might just take a while.

Have some tiramisu.

What could that T-word be? Tortellini? Tagliata? Tramezzini?

Tarararaaaam…

Snow!

Proud for a reason.

His idea, execution, amended recipe (he removed almost half of the sugar), division.

Thank you, Farmgirl. Oh, yes, I know, Italians are the kings of not bottling it up. I guess that’s one of the reasons why they always make top 3 healthiest nations. Becoming Italian myself, I see… You’re right: no use apologising to fellow bloggers, we do what we can. And yes, it was yum! 🙂

Choices must be made. There are only so many hours in a day. Meals must be made and consumed, love must be shared, underpants must be washed…
Looks like a lovely outing, indeed. My feet are sad for your feet, and Bestia’s paws as well.

And a good whine was had by all!!
Oh my – I looked at that bridge and my feet started hurting in sympathy … along with my quads and glutes!!

There is one thing that Husband simply doesn’t get. Sometimes I just want to vent. I don’t expect him to solve the problem. I just want someone to listen to me whine. It’s therapeutic … I get it out of my system and feel better for it.

Hehe, Joanne, these men stood together when traits were given out. Mine is a problem-solver too. A technician, he says. Still vents a lot though, Italian and all, but doesn’t let me do it because he takes it as a sign of his incompetence to make me happy… I miss women. Luckily there are many strategically scattered around the world. 😉 Thank you for the idea and an ear.

🙂 Glad to know this. If I have a question, I’ll ask you, okay? It’s been four years but it still feels new… As for girlfriends, mine live so far. Sometimes they come over but more often it’s women like you who balance it out and make me smile. Thank you for that.

This blog is closed but continues. Visit: Manja Mexi Moving - closed

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